Hard to Explain
by Asredasdorne
Summary: Theon as a victim of Ramsay Bolton when he was a kid. Ned Stark as the detective and his caring father figure. Robb as the stubborn idiot who tries to know what happened to him. Aegon, Loras, and Margaery as his overprotective friends, and Balon Greyjoy as the father whom Theon secretly wants to win over. Modern AU and Robb/Theon. Don't read if you don't like the pairing.
1. Brother

**Notes: Still working on Cyvasse but since that's harder to write, I came up with this. I love modern au's and this won't be as long as Cyvasse (hopefully). It will just be full of the boys' crazy antics and some romance. Don't worry, Theon's still the same loveable jerk we've grown so fond of.**

Ned Stark had always known the Boltons were heartless bastards, but he had never thought they would stoop so low as to hurt an innocent child. But then again, the Bolton involved could hardly be considered a Bolton as his own father was ashamed to acknowledge the bastard as his blood. Yet there was no denying those pale grey eyes. They had filled Ned with dread, and even when the bullets rained down on Ramsay Bolton, those cold eyes still stared mockingly. They were no longer staring, thank god. All those eyes could see now was the darkness inside the body bag where his men had placed Ramsay Bolton's bloody corpse. It was currently being carried away, ready to join other merciless criminals in the morgue.

The boy was one of the few survivors, a skinny child of ten who had experienced too much for his years. He had always been fond of children so his disgust for the family had grown as soon as he heard about it. Ned's own son was ten years old, a cheeky, auburn-haired boy who liked to play in the snow with Lyanna's child. He had left Robb with his mother in Glasgow, along with his younger siblings. They were safe and sound but Ned could not help but think of Robb as Ramsay's victim. Ned didn't think he would be able to handle it.

There was a paramedic sitting with the boy. He was bruised and battered but he wasn't in any real danger. An inhaler was pressed to his mouth and as the boy took in deep breaths, the paramedic coaxed him, gently rubbing circles into his back. There were tear tracks on his dirty face, which Ned could see, was startlingly attractive. The boy was a pretty child. Even grime and the purple-yellow bruises Ramsay had given him could not hide that. It really was no wonder Bolton took him for a plaything. The man was the most insane person Ned had ever laid eyes on, but he had a good eye for beauty.

"Theon?" Ned's voice was soft but the boy still flinched. His breathing seemed to speed up so the paramedic grabbed his hand and held it tightly. "Theon, calm down. I'm a detective." He kneeled, something Ned had learned did the trick in earning a child's trust. Blue-green eyes stared at him warily, but they no longer held that deer-caught-in-the-headlights look Ned had seen when they found him. "I'm here to help."

Slowly, he took the inhaler out of his mouth. Ned noticed a ring on the boy's finger, the right one where Bolton had burned the back of his hand. There was a gauze wrapped around the burn but no one had taken the ring away. It looked to be made of real gold, too large for a child to wear comfortably. It was a kraken, its tentacles made to look as if they were writhing furiously. Ned Stark had seen the symbol before but on a different youth. Rodrik did not have the ring with him when they fished his mangle body out of the river, but he'd had it tattooed on his back, so large no one could miss it.

Ned was from Scotland but he knew who the most dangerous families were. Boltons were insane, cruel, and bloodthirsty. And Greyjoys were vengeful and unforgiving. They had never crossed paths before, thankfully, but Ramsay Bolton had changed all that.

Theon stared at him balefully, and Ned sighed. He was going to be busier than ever.

* * *

Aegon had no brothers. He had a sister once, and a mother and father, too, but they died in the hands of the notorious serial killer, Gregor Clegane, when he was but a year old. Besides his cousin Quentyn, he had no male relatives close to his age. And Quentyn Martell was the least entertaining person he had ever met. His cousin was the kind of boy who acted as if there was always a stick up his arse, the reason why his sister Arianne spoke badly of him. Like her, Aegon love him little.

They lived in the hotel his godfather Griff owned. Hotels are good places for children. They can annoy the receptionsists, slide things (or themselves) down the laundry shoots, press all the buttons in the elevator, and stay in the pool for as long as they like. But children can only enjoy their time when with other children, and Griff, despite being a good foster parent, was no child. Growing up in that big penthouse would have been lonely had Theon Greyjoy not moved in the suite below.

Theon had brought along his sister Asha and Uncle Rodrik with him, but Aegon paid no attention to them. He heeded only the miserable child, who was quick to take him in as a friend, and later as something near to a brother. Theon had no brothers himself. The first one had died and the second was in jail. Even when they were around, Theon hadn't been fond of them, because their favorite thing to do was to tease him until he cried. He had a better relationship with his sister, and though they cared for each other's wellbeing, they didn't show affection. Greyjoys, Aegon learned, were not an affectionate folk.

Sometime later, Aegon introduced Theon to Margaery and Loras, but even after he'd met them, it was always the two of them. Aegon had been friends with the Tyrells longer, but Theon was easier to talk to. Aegon could break out of his cool façade and make a complete fool out of himself, and Theon could strip himself naked and dance on tabletops for all they cared about shame (though Theon did dance on tabletops in public whenever he was more than a little drunk) They knew everything about each other, from their favorite foods to their first kisses. Aegon's had been Margaery. They were only six, then, and Aegon had proposed to her with a half-eaten Snickers bar, kneeling in the sandbox the way he had seen others do it in movies. Margaery had pressed her chapped lips against his then dumped him as soon as she was finished eating the chocolate. That was the only time he'd ever been kissed and dumped on the same day.

Theon's first kiss was a harder story to swallow, because it led to more dangerous things. Theon's first kiss was with a grown man named Ramsay Bolton who later kidnapped and took advantage of him. The kiss had led to beatings, knife cuts, and several things Theon did not mention to anyone but the police. Even Aegon did not know the whole story, and Margaey and Loras knew only the kidnapping part. The rest was with Theon and he seemed determined to die without spilling his secrets.

There were still traces of Ramsay's torture. The scars crisscrossing on Theon's back would never fade, and Aegon wondered when Theon would ever stop fearing fire. Probably not until the skin on the back of his right hand turned smooth again. The flesh there was red and wrinkled and slightly flaking. This was why Theon kept his hands gloved, whatever the weather.

And there were the nightmares, the ones none of his friends could stop. Theon would wake up in the middle of the night, gasping for air as his hand searched for the inhaler that was always at his bedside. Aegon's constant worry was that Theon might have an asthma attack after one of his nightmares, so severe he wouldn't be able to call for help. And damn the boy for being so proud. One of the things Theon hated the most was his asthma and even when he was already having trouble breathing, he still wouldn't use his inhaler. Not in public, anyway, not where anyone could see him. His stubbornness made Aegon want to strangle him sometimes.

The boy was loud and annoying but he was Aegon's brother, and after he learned of what had happened to him under the hands of Ramsay Bolton, he became highly protective of him. Theon hated it and he would sometimes complain to them, muttering about being treated like a baby. "Well, if you weren't so daft," Aegon always replied, only fueling Theon's anger even further.

He wasn't sure if Theon was ignorant or actually allowing himself to be ogled. He was a pretty boy with his wavy dark hair, blue-green eyes, and that tiny fleck of a mole on the corner of his lips. Aegon was attractive as well, but Theon was the real magnet. There was something about his lean frame and ever-present smiles that attracted so many pervs. It also didn't help that he liked to wear too-tight jeans and loose shirts that slid down his shoulder whenever he moved. Right now he was exposing way too much collarbone, and the creepy old man across the aisle was practically pouring drool on his lap.

"You should really stop borrowing my shirts, Theon. They're too big for you," Aegon muttered after shooting the stranger the Death Glare. Margaery had taught them that. Unfortunately, the man was unfazed so Aegon grudgingly went for plan B. He pulled Theon's shirt back then laid an arm across his shoulders. Theon attracted less attention when people thought they were together. This was a risky thing to do, especially since Aegon's being a Targaryen made him famous. He'd already read more than one tabloid where he was rumored to be gay. Loras had shown him enough of them already.

The gayest thing Aegon had ever done was be forcefully kissed by a very drunk Theon and Loras. The latter had even brought his boyfriend Renly to join in the fun, and Aegon had hated every single, slobbery moment of it. Mostly because Margaery had been there and was laughing at him. Aegon wasn't sure if his love for her had started in that Snickers marriage proposal eleven years ago, or if it had stopped then suddenly returned sometime during puberty when Margaery suddenly sprouted an impressive set of breasts. Swimming in Harlaw had never been the same after that.

Theon stuck his tongue out at his admirer, forcing Aegon to tighten his grip on him. "We should have taken your car," he said. He pulled some loose threads from the black glove on his right hand. He'd left the other one bare because of the heat.

"Rory's drunk." It's one time only, Aegon had argued when Griff threatened to fire their chauffer. Actually, Rory had driven them places drunk many times before but Griff didn't know that. While Aegon was protective of Theon, Griff was protective of him. He'd even had Aegon wear a tracker until he ripped it out on his ninth birthday, complaining loudly of wanting to be independent. Griff hadn't been too happy about that, but he'd obliged.

"You could have driven."

Aegon snorted. His family had died in a car crash, a freak accident that was all because of that damnable Clegane. Going to a friend's house already made Griff fuss over him. His godfather would have a heart attack if he ever saw him behind the wheel.

"I could have driven."

"You would crash the car with the way you speed."

"But I never hit anyone!"

"Not a good reason to run over someone, Theon." As soon as the words left his mouth, Aegon immediately wanted to hit himself. Theon bit his lip then shrugged his arm off. Theon talked very little of what had happened to him with Ramsay, but he had told a story of how Bolton had forced him to watch a girl get crushed under the wheels of a truck. "Her name was Kyra," Theon had said, crying. "She was good to me."

"Sorry. I'm a jerk." Theon scowled at him. "We'll get some coffee, you like that?"

It was only seven-thirty in the morning, way too early to go downtown, but Theon liked to make every second of the day count. Aegon hated it. He wasn't a morning person. But he couldn't complain because whenever Theon woke up early, it meant he'd had another nightmare.

Obviously letting them on, Aegon thought when Theon waved goodbye to the geezer. Hadn't he learned from Ramsay already? But Aegon kept that to himself. First rule of their friendship: never mention Ramsay Bolton.

The nearest Starbucks was a block away and though Aegon thought their coffee was too sweet, Theon could drink gallons of the stuff. He was a finicky eater but if you put enough coffee and sugar in something, he would gladly eat it anyway. It wasn't the healthiest eating habit but if you denied him his food, Theon would go for option B. And smoking could kill him.

Theon had a knack for attracting the unexpected. Really, the most surprising things could happen when you were with him. Like in Harlaw, when they were on a small fishing boat and had come way too close to a shark. Or that time when Theon tripped and found a wallet with five hundred pounds worth of cash (the wallet was never returned as Loras had thought it best to spend the money in an amusement park).. Aegon certainly wasn't expecting the rather large grey dog that was running up to them at full speed. It leaped, forepaws hitting Theon square on the chest, knocking him backward. The dog lapped at Theon's face, and visibly he shook underneath it.

For someone who'd undergone torture, Theon was surprisingly fearless. He had his weakness, of course. He was afraid of fire because of Ramsay and Aegon guessed the dog phobia had something to do with Bolton, too. A bulldog could already make Theon blanch and this dog was bigger than a German shepherd. Aegon took in the signs. The shaking, pale skin, and tightly-closed mouth meant Theon was getting nauseous.

"Grey Wind, no!" The dog's owner was a boy their age, almost as tall as Aegon which was really saying something. Aegon was six-four. The boy was probably an inch-and-a-half shorter, and looked as if he were still unaccustomed to his stature. There was an awkwardness to him that was actually endearing. He had a nice face, blue-eyed and slightly freckled, topped with a messy mop of auburn hair. The ropy muscles on his arms spoke of some outdoor sport like lacrosse or tennis, but his paleness gave Aegon a bit of doubt.

The dog snapped his teeth at Theon playfully before letting his owner drag him away. "I'm really sorry," the boy apologized as he pulled Theon to his feet. Scottish, Aegon noted. His accent was rather strong. "Did Grey Wind hurt you? I—"

Aegon really should have warned the boy. Theon didn't even had time to clamp his hand over his mouth. The next thing they knew the boy was wearing Theon's breakfast on his shirt and Theon was spitting the rest on the sidewalk.

"Oh." Theon straightened himself, stared at the vomit, then laughed. "Holy shit."


	2. Father

**Notes: Apologies for some wrong grammar. Haha, English is not my first language and writing this in any other language is just strange.**

Asha Greyjoy's love was not an easy thing to win. She was an independent woman, the thought of love often in the back of her mind. She had never been the kind of girl who dreamt of knights in shining armors or giggled in the presence of handsome boys older than her. She had grown up with three boys, and rather than engaging herself in activities like dress up and slumber parties, she had chased her brothers around with her hair wild and the knees of her pants torn.

As a child she had been ugly and awkward, and many jokes had been made about her brothers being prettier than her. But even then someone had loved her and wanted her to be his. The boy's name was Tris, and though Asha had shared with him their first kiss, he had never been anything more than a slightly annoying friend. She had slept with countless boys as her beauty and confidence grew with her, but only Qarl managed to stay for more than a month. Even now Asha still had her doubts about him. It wasn't that he wasn't loyal. Qarl was the kind of guy any girl would want—handsome and witty with that charming cynical perception of the world. But neither of them held strong beliefs in a full time commitment, and whenever they lay in bed together they would wonder if this was really where they wanted to go.

Her family was more important than any boy, though, so this was where Asha's attention was often focused. Asha did not love them the way her friends loved their relatives. They were a family that never hugged, a family whose affection could only be found beneath a thick layer of ice. Her father had always been a judging man, their mother a silly frightened thing. Rodrik and Maron, Asha had loved little. They hadn't been as mean to her as they had been to Theon, but she had known them as mean-spirited boys who craved disaster. It was Theon, Asha loved most of all. It was because he was younger and as small children, he had thought of her as his mother, and Asha had loved him for needing her. Their own mother was a sickly woman who spent most of her time locked in her bedroom. It had been Asha's job to entertain their brother. They would go to the seashore and look for oddly-shaped shells, throw sand at each other, and sleep in a pole boat under the cool midmorning sun.

He did not love her so much now. Ramsay Bolton had changed him. He had become irritable and violent, his outbursts always a terror to behold. He'd spend as little time as possible with them, preferring the company of his friends over his own family.

Asha tried to be a good sister to him. When their father had thought of sending Theon away to a safer place Asha had suggested she come along, too. Asha would hit anyone who insulted him, had even gone so far as to break the nose of a boy who had bullied Theon in his first week of class. But even with the many things she did for him, he still couldn't see that she really did care. It was one of the reasons why Asha had never warmed up to Theon's friends, Aegon Targaryen especially. They always seemed to know what was going on in her brother's head. Asha knew Theon disliked their father for always pressuring him to be tougher. She could not see why he let himself think that all of his relatives were just copies of their father. She wasn't and never would be her father's puppet.

She really cared for him. Which was why she knew what was best for him. And what was best for him right now was to make him understand that he couldn't do anything about it anymore. Unfortunately, Theon had never been good in understanding their father's motives.

"I don't want them here!" He glared at her furiously, looking not unlike their sadistic Uncle Euron, a thought that disturbed Asha greatly. He was already dressed in his suit and tie, and for once he looked thoroughly clean. But the stubborn look on his face and the way his arms wear folded tightly over his chest told Asha that they were going to have a problem. She stepped toward him and he yelled at her to go away, his elbow knocking off a glass from the table. It shattered in a million pieces on the carpeted floor, glittering under the yellowish light of the built-in ceiling lights. Theon stepped on the shards as he walked away from her. Thank God, he's already wearing shoes, Asha thought as she grabbed his wrist and pulled him toward her. He tried to wrench himself free but she had always been the stronger of the two of them. Her grip tightened and he snarled at her, suddenly more animal than boy.

"You're hurting me!"

"Calm down!"

"Let me go!"

She really was hurting him but if she loosened her grip he'd run away. And she needed him to understand. Her fingers squeezed slightly. She could feel the bones underneath his skin, seemingly breakable in her hand.

"Asha, let your brother go." The voice was calm and the face of its owner was emotionless. Their Uncle Rodrik was not a handsome man. He had a plain, brown-eyed face, but there was an air of intelligence to him that left the viewer in awe. Asha obeyed and their uncle drifted to Theon, taking his right hand in his large ones to check for damage. There were red marks on his skin, redder than the shiny burn that covered most of his right hand. Looking at it made Asha guilty. Theon wasn't as strong as their older brothers. Not physically, anyway. Asha kept forgetting that.

Their uncle had a trench coat over his own suit and from one of the pockets, he fished out Theon's worn out gloves. He fitted the right over the ruined flesh, then kept the left when Theon refused it. "What are you two arguing about, anyway?" he asked. Asha opened her mouth to answer but Theon got before her.

"I don't want Father there." He was scowling again.

Their uncle sighed. "Theon, there's nothing you can do about it now. He's already here and we'll meet him in your school."

"You could have at least told me!"

"If we had then you would have run away and missed your own graduation." When Theon did not speak, Uncle Rodrik also brought out the Greyjoy ring and pressed it in Theon's palm. The ring had been passed down from generation to generation. It was really Rodrik's and would have been Maron's had he not become a convict. So it fell to Theon, and Asha knew just how much Theon hated it.

"Wear it," Uncle said. "Your father will look for it."

"I'm not a con artist," Theon muttered. But he put it on, nonetheless. He flexed his gloved fingers and stared at the ring warily, as if it would bite him. Their uncle smiled and placed a hand on his shoulder fondly.

"Your father will be proud of you."

Asha heard the words but not their uncle. "That's what I'm afraid of," Theon hissed, and for once, Asha agreed with him.

* * *

Theon glared at his salad viciously. In his mind, he tried to find a way of making it disappear without his family noticing. But that was impossible. They were not talking and every now and then they would look at him. His sister looked uncomfortable, his father furious, and his uncle neutral. Theon was seething, and when he stabbed the tomato garnish in the middle of the bed of lettuce, a bit of juice squeezed out and hit the shirtsleeve of his uncle. Uncle Rodrik kept eating.

"Eat, Theon," his sister urged. She rubbed a hand on the back of her neck, her eyes flitting to their father nervously. "It's good for you."

Theon grimaced. He placed the tomato in his mouth, gagged, then spit it back on his plate. Asha's foot kicked his shin in warning but Theon paid no heed. "You've gotten thinner," his father barked, eyeing the chewed up food with disgust. He turned to his uncle. "Has he been eating?"

"Oh, yes." Uncle Rodrik had donned his doctor's face so he neither smiled nor frowned. His face was as blank as a clean sheet of paper, perfect for revealing the fate of a patient in critical condition. Theon shot him a grateful look that his uncle pretended not to notice. No, he hadn't been eating healthily despite his uncle and sister's coaxing. Even Aegon could not force down a morsel of a proper meal down his throat.

Somewhere in the restaurant, he heard the boisterous laugh of Oberyn Martell. Aegon sat with his family and godfather. Oberyn was joking with Griff who seemed quite uncomfortable in the presence of Aegon's relatives. Aegon himself looked as if he wanted to die. His uncle's girlfriend was fussing over his messy hair, and Aegon kept slapping her hands away. He grinned at Theon sheepishly before returning his attention to his many cousins.

Margaery and Loras were also having a better time than him. They were only two tables down so Theon had a clear view of what was happening in the Tyrell side. Margaery was sitting on her brother, Willas' lap, laughing as Garlan bantered with Loras. They'd even invited Loras' boyfriend Renly to come along. The handsome Baratheon was currently talking to their shrewd grandmother, who would occasionally rap her soup spoon on the fat knuckles of Mace Tyrell's hand. The air was alive with the voices of many happy families and the classical music that played at the back of the restaurant. Theon could see their table was the most silent.

It wasn't really the silence that was strange. It was the idea of them doing something together as a family that Theon found off. Even when he still lived in Pyke, they had eaten their meals separately. But now their father was here, looking just as Theon remembered him. Physically, he was the older version of his youngest son, his hair now grey with bits of black. They shared the same turquoise eyes that ran strong in their family. But while Theon's were volatile, their father's showed only aloofness and flashes of cold anger.

They regarded Theon with an iciness that he could barely match. "Why didn't Mother come?" he asked, his voice challenging. Under the table Asha's hand grabbed his, squeezing hard. He ignored it.

"Your mother is very sick—"

"I should see her. I should go back to Pyke."

"No and you may go back home after college."

Theon dropped his fork with a clang. After college, his father liked to say. But his father's promises were empty. He had always loved Rodrik and Maron, but never the sickly child who'd followed his brothers around like a shadow. Rodrik and Maron could be used to handle threats to their business. Theon couldn't even hold a gun properly. He wore Rodrik's ring on his finger, but he and his father both knew he would never be the son he'd lost.

"So college," his father continued, ignoring Theon's glares, "what are your plans?"

Theon refused to meet his eyes. "I'm going to go to London and take a one year break with Aegon and Loras."

Asha's hand squeezed even more and had his father not glared so vehemently, Theon would have complained. His hand stayed where it was.

"What?" His eyes narrowed into slits. "Those Tyrell and Targaryen boys have been filling your head with nonsense. I'm not allowing it."

"I'm not asking." His uncle stopped pretending to be interested in his food. "Rodrik and Maron didn't go to college so why should I?"

"Rodrik and Maron combined aren't even half as smart as you and that's why you're going."

Was it a compliment? Theon studied his father's face. No, it wasn't. His father would always choose brawn over brains at the end of the day. Theon saw a gleam in his eyes and his stomach churned.

He was still going to turn him into one of them, mold him into what his brothers had been. Theon felt his anger flare. He didn't want to be used again.

"I don't want—"

"Theon, for once, just do as I say. You've always been disobedient. That's why Bolton took you in the first place. You don't know how to listen!"

"Well, if you hadn't made life such a living hell then maybe I wouldn't have gone looking for somewhere better! You practically gave me away!"

Wrong words. The slap was loud enough to attract the attention of other diners. The laughter died down and all eyes were on them. His cheek stung so badly a tear slid down his face and in the process, he had bitten his tongue. Blood filled his mouth, sharp and salty as the sea. His father continued to glare at him. "Fuck you," Theon hissed. He wrenched his hand out of Asha's grasp and walked quickly, pushing aside a waiter carrying appetizers. He heard his friends call his name, heard the click of Margaery's heels on the marble floor. Theon ignored them as he marched to the restroom where he would wipe the blood off his lip, put on a straight face, and walk back to their table. Running away wasn't an option. It would just prove to them he was cowardly.

There was no one there but him but a few seconds after he entered, the door swung open and the same red-haired boy he and Aegon had ran into a week ago, crossed the threshold. He wore clothing more modest than the recently-graduated adolescents in the restaurant and there was even a ketchup stain on the front of his shirt. The boy's shirts, it seemed, could never remain clean.

"Oh, hey." He smiled awkwardly. "Theon, is it?"

"Robb?" He barely remembered the boy's name due to the fact he had kept retching while Aegon apologized and bought him something else to wear.

"That's right." A concerned expression crossed his face. "You okay?"

"You saw how much of a dick my dad was, huh?" Theon faced the mirror after spitting out a glob of blood. His father was right. He did look thinner than before. Theon made a face at his reflection. "You enjoyed the show?"

"Actually, my dad just wanted me to ask you if you were okay."

"I don't know your dad."

Robb shrugged. "I know. I mean, we were eating and then he saw you and after that he wasn't paying much attention to us. And then we saw what…um, happened…and he made me go and ask if you were alright. He knows you, I'm sure. He's a—"

"Theon, baby, are you okay?" Robb's eyes widened a little at the sight of a girl in the men's bathroom. Margaery's arms encircled his frame, her lips pressing light kisses on his cheek. Aegon and Loras followed, both of them fuming.

"What a bitch!" Aegon was yelling. He looked especially fearsome with his white-blond hair freshly dyed a deep blue and spiked to look like a rooster's crown. He had lost to a bet but seemed to have grown fond of the color. "I'll kick his ass for you."

"I'll run a car over him," Loras threatened. "He shouldn't have done that."

"I'll gut him and shove his innards down his—"

"Shut up!" Theon shoved them away from him and went to Robb who had been looking at his friends with a mixture of shock and amazement. Aegon blinked several times when he recognized him. "Look, he's not your fucking father so don't go making vain threats." _You don't know what he can do. He's worse than Ramsay._ "Now go finish dinner. I'll go with Robb and see what _his_ dad wants from me."

"You have very protective friends," Robb observed as they walked to his table. Theon could see his from where they were and his uncle and father were both arguing. Asha was looking at her food sullenly. He wondered what the others thought of them. Some family.

"My friends love me well."

"Yes, well, your father really shouldn't have done that."

"It's not your place to say anything about my family."

"I didn't mean anything by…" Robb trailed off, huffed, then gave up trying to explain himself. There was something endearingly innocent about Robb and Theon found himself staring. The boy wasn't his type, although he was quite handsome. But his naivety was tempting and after Kyra, Theon thought that maybe he was ready to go back with boys. They certainly weren't as bitchy.

There was a woman with Robb's hair, a sullen dark-haired boy, and a man with an easy smile at Robb's table but Theon could only focus on the man sitting at the head. He stood up and smiled a little at him. His hair was shot with grey and his face was more lined but it was the same Eddard Stark Theon had known in his childhood. "It's good to see you, Theon," he greeted and Theon laughed, doing his best to disguise the wariness building inside him.

* * *

"He doesn't love me."

"That's ridiculous, Theon. Of course your father loves you."

Theon shook his head and proceeded to pull the thick gauze that was wrapped around his hand. It hurt, as did most of his body parts, but the medicine helped a little. It made him dizzy, however. The room would spin and tilt if he sat up so Theon kept himself lying in bed, his good hand holding the burned one to his chest.

The detective sat on the chair at his bedside, the one where his father was supposed to sit. But he had not sat in it once. The only people who did were the detective, the doctor, his sister, his mother, and his uncle. Of all the visits he got, he enjoyed the detective's the most. He didn't bring gifts like the nurses who were fond of pinching his cheeks and giving him those doe-eyed looks. But he brought stories and when the questions were done, the man would tell him of car chases and cat burglars.

The man also kept his secrets. Theon could talk and talk for hours about what had happened but only to the detective. When he tried with others, he would burst into tears and bury his face in his pillow.

The man was good and nice but he was a Stark, not a Greyjoy. He wasn't Theon's kin.

He would never be Theon's father.


	3. Apartment

**Note: Super super super short. Anyway this is just a transition so the real fun can begin. **

London was quite different from home despite only being a long bus ride away. It was a busy city full of tourists and businessmen, restaurants and boutiques, and big taxis that could hit you if you weren't careful. There was amazing graffiti on the walls and a homeless man chasing away a group of preteens. A girl giggled as a boy pulled her into the backseat of a taxi. A richly-dressed child was demanding sweets from a haggard nanny.

London was full of life but it gave little of that to Theon.

It was raining when the car stopped in front of the apartment, light enough to not require an umbrella. It often rained in London, according to Loras who had been there more than five times. For Theon it was his first time and he was enjoying little of it. The stressful week he'd had with his father had taken its toll and granted him a fever which he was only beginning to recover from. It wasn't dire enough to require constant watch from his uncle, but his friends never got that into mind. They fawned over him as he stepped out of the car and it was all Theon could do not to snap at them.

"Hood on," Aegon ordered, pulling up the hood of his jacket over his head. Theon glared at him. "You don't want that fever coming back, right?"

No, Theon wanted to say. He didn't need to be babied again. Still, Aegon and Loras' attention was better than his sister's. She hadn't been too keen on letting him go. His uncle, too. Theon hadn't not expected it. He had never stayed at one place for so long without them hovering over his shoulder, and the fact that he was asking for a year had led to an argument so great both Theon and Asha had broken several antique vases in their anger. Theon believed that the only reason his uncle had agreed was because he had made several threats in breaking a few more of his valuables.

As for his father, he had talked little to Theon before he left once more. He had given him money and a Master card but that was all. The childish part of Theon had longed for something more, but one look at his father's face and that stupid wish dissolved.

Eddard Stark was more of a father to him than his own blood ever could be. He had been the one who suggested the place when Theon informed him of his plans. It was safe, it was fun, and it had two teenage boys their own age who could act as their guide.

The land lord was his younger brother, a man Theon already knew in his childhood when he'd helped his brother with the investigation. Living with him was Jon, the son of a sister that had died in an accident. The eldest, Robb, had come along, too. Apparently, he always spent the summer with his uncle and cousin.

He was the first one to greet them. Robb was followed by a sullen-looking boy with dark hair and grey eyes, a young version of Robb's father. "You guys should get in," he said, smiling that same lopsided grin of his.

"In a minute," Aegon said, turning around to face his godfather, who had driven them all the way here. He hugged Aegon, then Loras, then Theon. "Be good," he half-scolded. "If you guys get into any trouble you know who to call."

"Got it."

"Remember, Aegon."

"I got it," Aegon groaned. They hugged again then Griff got in and drove away. Aegon watched the car disappear with a strange expression on his face. Sadness, Theon thought.

"You okay, Theon?" Robb asked as he ushered them inside. It smelled faintly of turpentine and something that Theon thought was alcohol. The floorboards were smooth and worn and the white wallpaper slightly yellowed. It looked good.

"He still has a fever, I think," Loras explained. The back of his hand was cold when he touched it to Theon's forehead. "Yup, you're hot."

"I'm always hot."

The cousin, Jon, rolled his eyes. Theon shot him a glare.

"We have some medicine there." Robb replaced Loras' hand with his own. He was so close Theon could count the freckles on his nose, contrasting against the paleness of his skin. His eyes showed concern and it made Theon nervous enough to look away, glaring when he saw Loras raise an eyebrow questioningly.

"Can we just go?"

Robb nodded and took his hand off. "I should bring you to Uncle Benjen, then. He has the keys."

He smiled again then turned to his cousin, talking to him as they climbed up the stairs. Theon saw Aegon staring at him.

"What?"

"You're blushing."

Theon's face burned. "Fuck off."

"I mean, it's just that it's really rare sight and—"

Aegon was never able to finish the sentence because Theon turned around and shoved him down the stairs. They'd only climbed five steps so no damage was done. Theon flipped him the finger then ran off, Aegon's screams of murder following him.

/

"You've grown quite a lot," Benjen said as he lead the kids in the flat. "I remember you when you were a boy. You were so small I could have stepped on you."

"I had a growth spurt," the boy replied. He had the same eerie blue-green eyes as Euron Greyjoy which had made Benjen think twice about his brother's suggestion. But he had been with ned when they'd interrogated him, and it was clear he wasn't unlike any other teenager. Well, except for his history and his family's background. Balon Greyjoy had not criminal records as far as Benjen knew, but he was brother to a notorious mobster and everyone knew the family took care of their own. Theon's father might not be the one killing Bolton's kin, but he acted as the veil.

His family was dangerous but the boy was not. It really was no wonder why Ned was so fond of him. He wanted him to grow up normal despite everything that had happened. He wanted him to be normal.

Benjen fit the key in the lock and pushed the door open. It hadn't been live in for so long so the air was musty and a sheet of dust coated the floorboards. "You know, I don't see why you won't live somewhere nicer." He turned to them. "You're all rich."

The Tyrell boy grinned at him. "So are you so I guess it's the same reason why you live here and your nephew likes to visit." Benjen laughed.

"Touché. Well, it's good to know you kids can pay rent."

Benjen showed them around, pointing at different rooms and warning them of other tenants. "Now I know you're teenagers so you'll be making more noise than necessary. But be mindful of your neighbors or else I'm kicking you out. You can do whatever you want inside. Heck, you can even do drugs as long as it doesn't get out."

"Promise," they said but Benjen could hear the lie in that promise. Jon lived under his roof and for the moment Robb, but his nephews were unlike these three. His nephews were quiet, obedient boys. These ones meant noise, parties, and several headaches.

"You've been to London before, haven't you? You won't get lost?"

"I go to London all the time," Loras replied while at the same time, Theon said no. Balon keeps him well-guarded, he thought.

"Well, Jon and Robb are just next door."

The Tyrell boy whispered something to Theon that angered him. Whatever it was, it earned him a swift elbow in his gut. The Targaryen sniggered as he doubled over, gasping for breath.

"Unpack your things and whatever." He placed a hand on Theon's shoulder. "You satisfied with things?"

The Tyrell managed to regain his breath. "No…he won't be until—" Theon slammed a fist on his side this time. Benjen blinked at him.

"I'm okay."

"You sure?"

"Yes," he muttered, glaring at his friends, "I'm sure."


	4. Friend

"You have to let us meet them, Robb!" Dacey cried, grabbing his amr and tugging him away from the bookshelves. She was pretty strong for a girl so he let himself be dragged to the entrance. Clydas, the clerk, watched them go, his eyes sympathetic.

"Dacey," Robb began, "they're not zoo animals. They're just like us."

"Robb, you have millionaires in your uncle's flat and one of them famous." She smiled slyly. "So is the Targaryen boy as handsome as his relatives?"

"Dacey. You have a boyfriend."

She laughed then smacked his arm so hard he nearly fell off the curb. For a girl so skinny, you'd think she'd pack a weaker punch. Robb knew she didn't mean to but he always got a few bruises when he was with her. He had minded it at first but after a few more visits in London, he'd gotten used to her rowdy behavior. Among his English friends, it was Dacey he was closest to. She was the first one he'd met and their meeting the most memorable. She had broken Robb's arm when her bike crashed into him then made him laugh all the way to the hospitable. The girl was one of a kind.

"You know I'd never cheat on Patrek, Robb." She pushed her sunglasses up the bridge of her nose then hooked her arm to his. Robb followed, quickly matching her pace.

They talked about nothing in particular as they made their way to Gage's, the diner he and his friends always ate in. Robb liked how small and dark it was, how the wall at the back was completely covered in concert posters, advertisements, and newspaper clippings. There was always one of his friends hanging about, either fiddling with the jukebox or flirting with the waitresses.

The gang was complete, with the addition of Val's new boy toy, some Russian guy who didn't seem to understand any English. The Karstarks were parked in front of the pinball machine while Patrek stood to one side, egging them on. Alys was talking to Jon who had come from his girlfriend's house. Robb saluted him then took a seat beside his cousin. The table was littered with cigarette butts and playing cards. Gambling wasn't allowed but Gage had a soft side for the Starks, after Robb's father had helped him get out of a debt.

Torr gave up the machine to his brother. "Hey, Scott," he greeted, ruffling Robb's hair. The Karstarks were Scottish like Robb while Val and Ygritte were Irish.

"Hey to you, too."

Dacey dragged Patrek to the table, Ed following close by. As soon as she was seated, she launched in on the story. "Robb and Jon have been keeping secrets from us," she said. "They have that cute Targaryen boy in their flat." As soon as the words left her mouth, people turned their attention to Jon. His cousin scowled then turned the attention over to Robb who rolled his eyes.

"Seriously, guys, he's nothing special."

"He's heir to billions of pounds and numerous successful companies, Robb," Val pointed out. "You should let him meet us."

"And let you corrupt him? No thank you."

"What's he look like?"

Robb huffed. "Like his dad only with blue hair. He dyed it."

"That's a shame." Val raised an eyebrow. "Do you guys think his hair is as blond down there as it is on top?"

"Val!" Robb fought the urge not to throw the salt shaker at her. "God, don't even talk about that!"

She laughed then leaned against her Russian toy. "Prude," she teased. Underneath the table, her foot skidded up his knee. Robb jerked away, earning another laugh from her.

"I have manners, unlike you."

"Who doesn't have manners?"

Robb froze at the sound of her voice. It was the older of the Jeynes, the waitress Robb had been infatuated with since she first began to work here. She smiled at him, the corners of her amber eyes crinkling. Her hair was down and it fell in thick waves at the small of her back. Robb swallowed hard then jumped when Ed delivered a swift kick to his shin.

"N-nothing," he stammered. Torr snorted and Robb gave him a kick as well. It landed on Alys, however, and she yelped in pain. "Robb!" she screamed.

"Um…the usual?" Jeyne asked, her eyes wide at the spectacle. Alys confirmed their orders then sent Jeyne off to another table. Robb followed her with her eyes.

"Dude, you have to ask her out!" Patrek cried. "It's no use getting a boner over nothing."

"I'm not her type," Robb grumbled. "I overheard her talking to the other Jeyne."

"Just be your well-bred prep school kid self," Dacey suggested. "Goody-goodie girls like Jeyne fall for guys like you."

"She likes musicians."

"Then you'd better tell that guy to get out before Jeyne gets to him." Ed motioned to where the other waitresses were excitedly ogling a boy who was playing a battered acoustic guitar completely covered with stickers and pictures of bands. He sat at the edge of the stage used for Friday night performances. Another boy sat next to him and it looked to Robb like he was singing. Gage was watching them, clapping his hands in encouragement. Robb squinted.

"That's Theon and Loras," he said, "Aegon Targaryen's flatmates."

"Where? Oh, Robb, you didn't tell us the flatmates were handsome as well."

"I'm not a girl."

"Can I have one of them?"

The Russian guys didn't seem to understand. "Val," Robb groaned, "that's a no. Loras is gay and Theon's…" He trailed off. Aegon was the one Robb always talked to. It wasn't because the other two weren't friendly. It was just that Aegon was the one who was often indoors. According to him, theon would sleep with anything with two legs. A match for Val. But there was something about him that reminded Robb strongly of Bran after the accident. He didn't know what it was. There was just something about Theon that seemed…well, broken.

Too late. Val was already on her feet and moving toward them. Robb hastily followed.

Theon was humming, his eyes closed as his fingers moved across the fret. His left hand caught Robb's attention. He had always assumed Theon wore a glove over it just for the fun but it seemed there was something genuinely wrong about it. His fingers were stiff and his pinky looked as if it could barely move at all. Every now and then they fumbled over the strings. But despite the mistakes, he actually played rather well.

Loras stopped singing then tugged Theon's sleeve. "Hey, Robb," Loras greeted. Theon merely stared at him.

Val leaned forward. "Hey. Robb's friends, right?"

Theon's eyes skimmed her body with approval. They flickered to Robb then back again to Val. "Yes," he drawled, "and the lovely lady is?"

"Val." She took a seat between him and Loras who rolled his eyes at Theon. "Robb's friend."

"Dating anyone?"

"Currently." She jerked her chin to the Russian guy who was laughing at something Patrek had said. Robb doubted he even understood it. "But," she said, leering at him, "I can fit you in my schedule."

"Mine's rather tight at the moment."

"Oh?"

"I apologize," Loras muttered, "for him." He shoved Theon playfully and Theon pushed back.

Val laughed. "They're adorable, Robb. Why'd you and Jon keep them a secret from us?"

_Because I don't want them mixed with you? _Robb didn't say it. While Aegon, Loras, and Theon weren't bad people, they were different, too rich for Robb and his friends. They were down-to-earth people and while the three were determined to fit in, one would never say they didn't come from wealthy families. It was in the way they acted, in that slight arrogance they all possessed. The Starks were rich as well but they were modest. These three belonged from old money families.

"We're hot, not adorable," Loras replied. "Well, at least, I am."

"Where's Aegon?" Aegon was the more mature of the three and the peacemaker. Robb could never be comfortable in their presence if Aegon wasn't around to try and censor any of the unflattering things that came out of their mouths.

"He got a part-time job in this book store. You know, independence and shit. Theon's going to do the same. I'm just here so I can be close to Renly and look out for these two."

"Come on," Val said, getting to her feet. She grabbed both o them. "You should meet the rest of the gang."

"Val," Robb called but she ignored him. To his dismay, she was already seating them, introducing them to their friends.

"Patrek, Dacey, Alys, the Karstarks, Jon. And my date, Oliver."

"Jon." Theon wrinkled his nose in distaste. Their first week had proven disastrous. Jon hadn't warmed up to any of the tenants, Theon especially. Robb had come home to see the two of them arguing over the mail. While Jon was pretty decent, Theon wasn't the kind of person who exhibited a healthy anger. His fist had connected with Jon's jaw and had Aegon and Loras not intervened, there would have been blood and guts all over the place. Robb had helped Jon make an excuse for the bruises for Uncle Benjen. If they'd been any other tenant, their uncle would have kicked them out, but both Jon and Robb had received warnings from their father to be nice to them.

That was another reason why Robb treated Theon a little differently from the others. It was because he had this strange friendship with their father and every other adult relative of Robb. Robb's father was fond of him, to the point that Robb felt he saw Theon as a son, too. And none of the Starks even knew why. What was so special about Theon that made people treat him kindly?

"You guys want a smoke?" Patrek asked. He offered both of them cigarettes. Loras declined then slapped Theon's hand away when he reached for one.

"Something wrong?"

"He has asthma." Loras ignored Theon's sulk. "Just because Aegon's not here, doesn't mean you can do whatever you want, Theon."

"Who are you, my mom?" But he relented and slumped back in his seat. Loras patted his head like Theon was a dog.

"Oh. Cigarettes out, then." Alys said as she put out hr cigarette.

"So what brings you to London?"

"I just tagged along."

Theon fidgeted slightly. "I'm taking a break from my family."

"How come?"

Robb stared at him. Theon looked away.

"It's a long story."

"But—" Under the table Robb kicked Torr's shin. His friend yelped then made a face. Robb shook his head.

That was the first thing Robb had learned you had to avoid when talking to Theon. No asking him about his family. Theon was a stranger to him but Robb had been there in the restaurant, and he had seen what Theon's father had done. There was a deeper story to it, obviously, but it was clear Theon wasn't going to talk about it to them.

Luckily, Dacey had a gift in conversations. She was able to make them feel comfortable, enough that by the time their food was finished, stories had already been exchanged. Patrek leaned against Dacey, Theon's guitar in his hand. "You play a lot?" he asked as he strummed a chord.

Theon shrugged. "Sometimes. It helps my hand."

"What about your hand?" Ed asked through a mouthful of chicken. Lroas and Theon exchanged a look.

"Just an accident when I was a kid. Playing keeps my fingers from going stiff. I mean, if I didn't I wouldn't be able to do this." Theon made a lewd gesture with his hand that made Robb choke on his soda. Loras laughed as Jon pounded a fist on his back. Soda dribbled down the front of his shirt.

"Ew, Robb," Dacey teased. Robb glared at her as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. It was uncomfortably sticky.

"I'm going to the restroom." He excused himself then stood up. He passed by the table Jeyne was entertaining. He gulped when her eyes found his.

The soda had stained through his shirt and no amount of wiping it could remove it. Robb had only succeeded in drenching his shirt. Defeated, he went back to the table, only to find Theon and Jon having a heated argument that his friends were desperately trying to break up.

"I didn't mean it!" Jon was yelling. "It was an accident!"

"You fucking soaked me, you twat!" Theon yelled. Apparently Jon had accidentally knocked over the pitcher of water and drenched both Theon and his guitar. Loras was trying to pull him back to his seat but Theon was having none of it.

"If you're so worried about your shirt, go ask your daddy to buy you a new one!"

The words were a bad choice. Theon's face went red. "You ruined my guitar, asshole!"

"It's just a stupid guitar!"

Another bad move. Before anyone could even blink, Theon shoved the guitar in Loras' hands, leapt from his seat, and attacked Jon. The waitresses were shrieking and Gage was running toward them, trying to pull Theon off Robb's cousin. "Theon! Theon, stop it!" Loras was yelling. "Theon!"

Theon rolled off Jon. Robb noticed he was wheezing slightly. Loras bent over him worriedly while Robb ran to his cousin. Theon had left his face alone this time, but judging from Jon's groans he had done quite a lot of damage.

"Stupid asshole," he groaned at Theon who had an inhaler pressed to his mouth. "Fucking prick."

Theon growled and Loras stepped aside, sighing when Theon's fist connected with Jon's face.

/

Ghost's teeth split the chicken bone into two, the sound reverberating in Jon's skull. "Try eating quietly," he told the dog, his voice hoarse from the pain. Ghost merely stared at him. With a wag of his tail, he went back to gnawing loudly on his treat. Jon groaned.

"You okay, man?" The voice was familiar and Jon groaned again, this time inwardly. The last people he wanted to see where their millionaire tenants. And while Aegon Targaryen was no Theon Greyjoy, he came close.

"I'm fine." A lie. His whole body ached and the left side of his face was throbbing slightly. Aegon didn't seem to think so either. Without asking for permission he sat on the floor so that Ghost was between them. Jon looked at the dog, silently asking it to get rid of the intruder. Ghost did nothing.

Traitor.

"You want some?" Aegon peeled back the gold paper inside the box, revealing a pack of foreign cigarettes. It reminded him of the ones their Uncle Brandon once brought over to share with both him and Robb. Neither of them had lasted long. Jon shook his head, remembering all too well the dizzying effect.

"Is it okay if I smoke? Your uncle won't mind if your room smells like smoke, right?"

"Do whatever you want." He coughed. A searing pain went through his ribs that made his body go rigid. Aegon studied him, head cocked to one side. It was too dark to read the expression on his face but Jon assumed it was probably that of distaste. After all, he'd gotten beaten up but a supposedly sickly kid who's weight was probably in the double digits. Ygritte would laugh at him.

"Hurts, huh?" The earthy scent of the cigarette blew over Jon. He wrinkled his nose then opened his mouth to reply but Aegon cut him off. "I know it hurts. You're not the only one who managed to piss Theon off. Loras and I were victims as well."

"What, you spilled water on him, too?"

A chuckle escaped Aegon's mouth. "Nah. We were kids and I refused to give Theon his game back." Jon stared at him in disbelief. "Theon said he has asthma and trust me, that's not the only medical problem he has. But he comes from a family where self-defense is crucial." Aegon paused. "And circumstances gave Theon's father the idea that he should be very well-trained."

"God…"

"He's a black-belt in—"

"Ugh, don't." Jon rubbed his hands on his face. How could he have known? Theon didn't look weak but he also didn't look like the kind of guy who could snap your spine like a twig. "No wonder."

"Well, you managed to hit him. And he's pretty pissed off because of that."

"Great. So he'll come looking for more."

"Nope." To Jon's surprise, Aegon scratched Ghost behind the ears. The dog was usually hostile to strangers but it made an exemption to Aegon. "As long as you keep your dog with you, Theon won't go looking for a fight. Dogs freak him out."

Jon snorted. "He should got to Robb's place, then. Each of the kids have dogs."

"I see." There was a moment of silence between them. Then Aegon said, "You do know that if you overdo it, I'll kill you. Loras and I are highly protective of him."

"He can defend himself."

"Only sometimes."

"He's that important to you?"

"Theon's our brother. Not by blood as I'd like, but close enough. Like your relationship with your cousin."

"Oh." His eyes had adjusted slightly to the dimness of his room, enough to see the amusement on Aegon's face. "You're the kind of guy who's always trying to be the hero, huh?"

Aegon laughed again. "Hero? Well, a bit, I suppose. My godfather says I'm just like my father in that way. In fact, maybe I'm doing it to be like him. You know, get to know what he was like. I never had the chance."

There was something tragic about Aegon. Beneath that posh kid façade, there was someone who felt how Jon felt sometimes. But Aegon was sadder. His parents had been murdered, their lives ended in some freak accident caused by a psychopath. That was no secret. It was pretty famous since Aegon's father had been the CEO of a technical company, and his mother had been an actress. And he had to play the part of the happy-go-lucky heir to a great fortune.

What Jon knew Aegon probably hated was how everyone knew what his parents were like except for him. Jon was the same. His mother had died when she gave birth to him; his father was a man she had eloped with, his identity unknown. The adults liked to tell stories, liked to tell him he looked just like her. Aegon probably got that a lot.

But he wasn't going to confess it, so Jon just lay there and stared at the ceiling, the scent of cigarettes sharp in the air.

"You don't act like them," he said after a while. "You're—"

"Mature?" Aegon shrugged. "Theon's the baby of the family and while Loras is older than his twin, Margaery's a bit of a control freak. You and Robb are, too. Robb's the eldest and you don't have folks, either."

Jon's eyes widened. "How'd you know?"

"Robb explained you to me and I explained Theon to Robb before we agreed to go after you guys. We figured you'd be less biased in the presence of a stranger." He stood up and looked down at Jon with a smile on his face. "Well, I'm glad I don't have a reason to add to what Theon gave you."

"The guitar…"

"Don't worry." He stopped, then grinned. "Can't you hear it?"

"Hear what?"

"Theon's started a show."

/

"You shouldn't have hit Jon."

Theon stopped playing. Robb waved at him weakly. "No," he muttered, getting furious when Robb tried to touch the guitar lying at his feet. "Don't put your hands on it."

Robb withdrew his hands. "Sorry." He looked around then sat on the floor when he saw that there were no available chairs. "You're letting it dry, huh?"

"Yeah."

"That violin yours, too?"

Theon nodded. He put the violin down then grabbed the rosin. Robb watched as he applied it to the bow. "You're good," Robb said. Theon stared at him. "I heard you playing as I climbed up. You're better with the violin than the guitar."

Theon scoffed. "Whatever."

"No, I'm serious."

Theon felt himself blush again. No one had ever complimented him for that, no one but his friends and some of his relatives. He played the guitar in public, and while he favored the violin more, he thought it too girly. So he practiced in places he thought unoccupied. He'd assumed no one went to the rooftop since it had been barricaded by broken chairs, but Robb had found him.

"Jon gave you a bruise," Robb observed. Theon touched the mark on his cheek. It didn't hurt that much and he said so to Robb. "Well, you did a lot of damage to my cousin."

"Sorry," Theon said, though he didn't really mean it. He had known from the first moment he saw him that he wouldn't like Jon. The boy reminded him of his relatives. Too controlling, too somber.

"The guitar's very important to you."

"Your dad gave it to me." Robb blinked. "It means a lot."

"Are you ever going to tell us how you met my dad?"

"No."

"Why?"

Theon scowled. "Just…just leave it."

Robb sighed. "Whatever you want, Theon."

They sat there for a while. Theon played a little but he wasn't the same, couldn't do it very well because of Robb staring at him. He scratched his head. "So you came here to tell me off?" he asked.

"Nah. You're not a bad guy. Just angry and secretive. Jon probably said the wrong things, didn't he?"

"He did."

"You know you remind me a bit of my brother, Bran. He got in a car crash that broke his legs. He can't walk anymore, always has to use a wheelchair. He was pretty angry after that, and even now he keeps to himself." Robb paused. "I figured something bad happened to you, too."

Theon's eyes widened. "I…"

"You don't have to tell me." Robb smiled at him. Theon found himself smiling back.

"You're alright, Stark."

"Wow, thanks."

"Well, you're okay."

Robb laughed. "Just play something, will you?"

Theon pushed him playfully then complied. 


	5. Routine

**Note: Long chapter full of Theon. Things get a little more intense in the next chapter.**

The man had really pale eyes. They reminded Theon of dirty snow, the kind he'd seen when they went to Hamburg last year. They regarded Theon curiously, almost with fascination. Theon didn't know why. He was cold and hungry and there was a bruise forming on his temple where the concrete had connected with his head.

The man kneeled until he was in Theon's eye level. He was not a handsome man, Theon observed. His face was pale and yeasty and the scent of stale beer wafted from his crooked teeth. It was a face that reminded Theon of the men he had seen his Uncle Euron arguing with, the ones whose pictures flashed in the news with the reporter confirming their deaths. It was not a nice face and Theon found himself crying again, from both pain and fear.

There was another man with the first. He went out the passenger's seat and stopped in front of them. Theon stopped crying at the sharp scent that invaded his nostrils. It was a combination of sweat and beer and a bit of day-old piss. He could not help it; he gagged. A chuckle escaped the mouth of the pale-eyed man.

He turned to his companion. "He doesn't like the smell of you, Reek," he said. His friend shrugged, seemingly unhurt by what he'd said. "What's your name, son?"

"Theon," he muttered, rubbing an eye with a mud-caked fist. "Theon Greyjoy."

The mention of his last name to people in their town immediately gave him special treatment. They weren't in Pyke, though. They were in Scotland where his father had warned him never to mention his last name unless with them.

But he had run away and now he wanted to go home. He had been walking about Scotland for three days, cold and miserable. No one had been looking him which Theon had expected. His father wouldn't call on the police until their mother made threats. Theon had assumed he'd be able to live on his own; his brother Rodrik had done the same when he was fifteen, returning only after two months. But Theon was beginning to wonder if there was a bit of truth to what his father liked to say: that a Greyjoy wouldn't be able to survive without his kin.

It seemed to work on the man as well. He raised an eyebrow and a smile crossed his face, making it look less intimidating. "Ah, a Greyjoy." He place his hands beneath Theon's armpits and pulled him up. "You're little for a kraken."

"I'm not little," Theon huffed, his pride hurt. Never let anyone make fun of a Greyjoy. His father's words echoed in his mind, testing him. "Shut up."

"You're a little one," the man continued. Something gleamed in his eyes. "Pretty, too, isn't he Reek? He has very aristocratic features."

Reek, Theon thought, was a fitting name for the man. There was a worried look on his face and when the man put Theon down, he said, "Ramsay, I don't think we should bother him. I mean, he's a Greyjoy and you're a—"

"Oh, Reek, don't worry." The man Ramsay ruffled Theon's hair. His touch was gentle. "I'm Ramsay," he told the child. "You're lost, aren't you?"

Theon nodded. "I want to go home," he said. His eyes moved to the car, a rusty green Honda. His snarky nature returned to him. "The least you can do is bring me home after nearly running me over."

Ramsay sniggered. "You're a feisty one, aren't you? You like games, Theon?"

Theon's ears perked at the word. He liked games, all kinds. Asha played with him sometimes, and his brothers had never missed an hour of blasting virtual aliens. They were something his father disapproved of, but Uncle Rodrik always told him that he should let Theon alone and act his own age.

He nodded. The man laughed again. Ramsay, Theon decided, found a lot of things humorous. "Let's play a bit while we wait for your father," he said, pulling him toward the car. The sleeve of his shirt pushed back. Theon's eyes fell on the grisly picture of a flayed man tattooed on Ramsay's pale skin.

"Families like us have symbols," Asha had told him the first time he'd asked about the ring. "It's to tell others off from our territory." She'd tapped his nose gently with her finger. "First rule: don't trust anyone with a symbol that isn't ours."

It could have been just a normal tattoo. And had Theon not been taught well, he would have thought so. But he'd seen the symbol many times. His Uncle Euron had told him why the Bolton's were a flayed man. "It's because they rip your skin off, Theon," he'd said, his voice sickeningly playful. "Greyjoys are old and menacing. Boltons are another thing."

"What's that?"

"Merciless."

Panic rose in Theon and he wrenched his arm free. Ramsay suddenly didn't seem so nice anymore. He tried to scream but a wet cloth was suddenly pressed over his mouth. Theon look up to see Reek. His arms were encased around Theon's body, crushing him. Theon squirmed, trying to breathe, trying to get the haze out of his head. But his mind was slipping and the last thing he saw before he gave way to the drug was the anticipation in Ramsay's eyes.

He woke up to hell.

But this was another time and he was in another place. Still, when he woke up his mind disregarded that. His throat was raw from screaming and parts of his body ached where he must have scratched himself yet again.

"Theon! What was it?" Aegon grabbed him and shook him by the shoulders. "Was it another bad dream?"

It was early. Theon could tell from Aegon's tousled hair and Loras just getting up from his bed. Aegon moved aside to let Loras sit in the bed. "You okay man?" he yawned. "You were thrashing about."

"I'm fine." Theon rubbed his face, startled by the tears he found there. There was a phantom pain in his right foot which was twitching slightly beneath the sheet tangled around his legs. Ramsay cut me there, flashed briefly in his mind.

Aegon opened his mouth but his words were stopped when they heard the flush of the toilet. "What?" Loras sat up. "Did anyone bring anyone home last night?"

"We didn't go out last night." Theon took deep breaths and waited for his heart to slow its pace. It was a dream and that was the past. No one was going to hurt him anymore.

"That's freaky." Aegon slid off the bed and padded to the bathroom. His shirt was off and he wore only a pair of ragged jeans. Theon remembered dumping beer over his head after Aegon had teased him about his newfound friendship with Robb Stark.

No one made fun of Greyjoys.

"I'm going to go see—whoa!" Aegon immediately shut the door behind him after a slipper was thrown at the other side of the room. It hit the wall and left a wet patch on the wallpaper. Theon raised an eyebrow as Aegon's face turned an unattractive shade of red which clashed horribly with his hair. He turned to Loras. "Uh, Mar-mar's here."

Loras rolled his eyes. "She couldn't bother to call," he groaned.

Theon beamed. "Mar-mar's here?"

Margaery had promised to visit as soon as possible but weeks had already passed. Theon had been a little lonely without her always fussing over him. But she was here now, and the first thing she did when she opened the door was wrap her arms around Theon's neck. Over her shoulder, Theon saw Aegon's face go even redder. Margaery was wearing her brother's plaid shirt and nothing else. Theon could tell from the soft press of her breasts against his chest.

"I heard you scream," she said. Her hand went to his face. Theon frowned a little at the blunt scratch of her fingernails on his cheek. "Did my baby have a bad dream?"

The first time Theon had let them in on Ramsay Bolton, Margaery had immediately proclaimed herself as a maternal figure to Theon. It had started as a joke at first, a way to make others uncomfortable, like when Theon asked Margaery to breastfeed him right in front of the prissy salesladies at Barney's. But Margaery really had a natural instinct to care for others, and Theon was used to the attention. His mother had always kept him at her side when he still lived in Pyke, and when he was younger, he'd sought Asha's attention. Margaery had replaced his relatives and Theon let her.

"Hey," Loras said, sounding a little offended. "No hug for your brother?"

Margaery giggled then attacked him. The shirt rode up her thighs, exposing her arse cheeks. Aegon fidgeted uncomfortably then excused himself by offering to make breakfast. "I'm going to change," she said. Before he and Loras could even blink, Margaery stripped of her shirt and stood in front of them, pale and lovely and absolutely naked.

Margaery was one of the most beautiful women Theon had ever met and she had the kind of body girls envied and boys drooled over. But she was also one of the girls Theon's southern area never thought of sexing up. The thing was, Margaery was too much of a mother-sister to him. And you had to be an idiot to fall in love with her. She was just like Robb's friend Val. Worse even. They were the look-and-touch-only-once girls, the ones who'd gladly turn you into a lovesick slave the moment you came back for more.

Aegon was an idiot for loving her.

He'd admitted it to Theon when they were kids. They were lying in Griff's massive bed, eating popcorn while the telly blared on. "You know the feeling of liking someone a lot?" he'd asked, turning to face Theon. "I like Mar-mar. I might even love her."

The thing was, Theon had known that same feeling, but after that confession, he'd given up on it. It had only been a stupid crush, created by Aegon's surprising kindness toward him. It was a good thing it hadn't lasted long because Aegon was his brother and he was one of the few people Theon knew he couldn't bear to lose. No one ever and knew and Theon would never tell anyone, not even Loras, who despite acting like a loudmouth at times, could carry your secret to his grave.

He never saw anyone in that way after Aegon. He slept around a bit, had woken up in the bed of strangers, but Theon only liked the appeal of a warm body. Love hurt. He knew that well because he had loved Kyra, the older girl who'd also been Ramsay's victim, and who'd died in Theon's presence. He didn't really want to be hurt again.

"You guys think I should ink myself?" Theon asked. The red rose tattooed on Margaery's left shoulder blade had caught his attention. Loras had a similar one on his right, black instead of red. All of his close friends were inked, Theon realized. Renly had the head of a stag on his ankle. Aegon had a dragon circling up the back of his knee. Nearly all of his relatives had the kraken tattooed in some part of their body. Theon remembered seeing the one his father had. The kraken covered his whole back, the tentacles curling at his sides and hugging his ribs. Seeing it had filled Theon with a mixture of dread and fascination.

Loras shrugged. "It's really painful, Theon."

"I know pain." Margaery shot him a disapproving glance. The fact that she had yet to put on her bra made him laugh.

Physical pain didn't really matter to him. Ramsay had whipped, knifed, and hit him so many times already that even broken glass biting into his skin was small compared to what he had had to go through. Emotional pain was the kind Theon hated. He'd been so confused with Ramsay. One day he was a monster, the next he was saying soothing things to Theon. He'd been so confused with his father until Theon decided he would just settle for hatred. Making a choice was easier than not choosing. You could either hate or love the person. To Theon, it was like flipping a coin.

In his mind there was a list of people he hated. It was a long list, full of the names of the people who'd helped Ramsay hurt him. Dead or in prison, Theon thought. The list of people he loved was shorter.

"So what are you doing here, Mar?" Loras asked.

"Oh, you know, mother and father are concerned about their baby boy." She ran a comb through her hair. "I'm just staying for a day or two. Also, Renly's asking me to help him with something."

"What? But he could always ask me for help."

"Sure, Loras, but you're always attached to each other by the mouth which makes explaining things really hard."

They heard the front door creak open and someone shuffle in. From the kitchen they heard Aegon's greeting over the hiss of the frying pan.

"You guys are up early."

Robb.

He came to the bedroom, his greeting stopped by a yelp when he saw the still half-naked Margaery. "Oh my god, I'm sorry!" he cried, shielding his face with his hands.

"Keep your eyes close for thirty seconds," Margaery said as she clasped her bra behind her back and pulled on a baby blue blouse. "Okay, open them now."

"Margaery, right? Loras' sister." Robb was still blushing. Unlike with Aegon, Robb's red face complemented his hair.

"Yeah. And you're Robb. Our Theon's little friend?" She patted his cheek. "Thanks so much for keeping an eye on him and my brother and Aegon. They're a bunch of idiots who can barely take care of themselves."

"That's a compliment," Aegon pointed out, sarcasm dripping from every word. Now that Margaery was fully clothed he was no longer a blushing maid. "So what brings you at this hour, Robb?" He took a seat next to Loras while Theon got up and searched for a clean shirt.

"Oh, uh, I'm here for Theon, actually." Theon looked up from the pile of clothes at the foot of his bed. Margaery and Loras stared at him questioningly.

"Jon's friend Mance—"

"I don't want anything to do with Jon," Theon muttered, still sore with Robb's sullen cousin. While Theon enjoyed Robb's company. He couldn't stand being in the same room as Jon. It didn't matter that he looked like Eddard Stark. He certainly didn't have the man's pleasant attitude.

"Jon's friend Mance," Robb continued, "is a street musician who's really good with fixing up instruments. I described your guitar to him and how you have trouble removing all those wet stickers. He can clean it up for you and make it look new."

Theon's grin faltered when Robb added, "You'll have to leave it with him, though."

"Great."

"So you're agreeing?"

"Whatever…just…just tell him not to break it or else!"

"Wow, attached much?" Loras teased, ignoring Theon's snarl. Even his friends didn't understand why he loved that guitar so much. It was old and cracked and no longer very good. But it had been given to him by Robb's father after his second visit.

"The doctor said you'll still be able to use your left hand. But you have to make those fingers stronger. I brought you this guitar. It's too big for you but you'll learn to like it once you've grown."

Theon had weighed it in his bandaged hands. Even then, the guitar was old, its paint chipped and a thin crack running down its mahogany body. It had been the source of entertainment for a college-aged Eddard Stark and his close friend Robert Baratheon. But none of his children had taken interest in it and for years, it just sat in the Starks' attic, collecting dust.

The guitar was the first thing that made Theon feel he'd be okay, that he could still be normal even after Ramsay.

"You ate breakfast already, Robb?" Aegon asked. "You can join us if you want."

Breakfast was flapjacks with bacon and eggs. Margaery made an 'ew' when Theon poured chocolate syrup all over his share, then topped it off with cinnamon and Loras' leftover Skittles. "That's sick, man," Loras said.

"I'm starving." Theon's stomach was a mystery to his friends. Most days you had to force him to eat anything other than the occasional junk food. But there were times when Theon acted like a total pig and would devour anything, even oddly-combined foods such as that memorable sardines and ice cream club sandwich Theon had made in sixth grade.

Robb was quiet. Theon looked at him, puzzled when Robb immediately looked away. My hand…he hadn't slipped the glove on. He seldom did when he was at home. Something about the ragged pink-and-white flesh made his throat burn. "Actually, I'm not that hungry anymore." He pushed his plate away, all too aware of Robb watching his every move.

"I'm not eating that if that's what you're thinking."

Robb's face was unreadable at first but he grinned and took Robb's plate. "I'll eat it." The others wrinkled their noses. "Ugh, Robb, you don't have to."

"It's okay." He took a bite, chewed thoughtfully, then continued eating. "When we let our little brother Rickon make snacks, he ends up making things like this and you have to eat it or else he'll throw a tantrum. My tastebuds have grown adventurous since then."

"That's so cute," Margaery said. "You have a lot of siblings?"

"Well, I'm the eldest. Sansa, who's fifteen, comes next. She's the princess of the family and she believes in true romance and shit like that. Really girly and a perfectionist if you know what I mean."

"Like me?"

Loras rolled his eyes. "I'm pretty sure Robb's sister isn't a she-devil." Margaery smacked him.

"Arya comes after her. She's thirteen and they're complete opposites. Wild ,rebellious, witty, ready to punch you when you tease her—"

"Like Theon?" Aegon said before Theon smacked the back of his head.

"Yeah, a little like Theon." 'A lot' was hidden beneath it. "Then after her is eleven-year-old Bran. Kid's a little genius. He's the quiet one, though, always keeps to himself, more when the accident happened. He became depressed when he found out he had to use a wheelchair but he's okay now.

"After him comes Rickon. He's nine and people call him my 'mini-me' since we look a lot alike. But we're different when you talk about personality. Rickon's even wilder than Arya, but that's because of the ADHD."

"How about your folks?"

"Well, Theon already knows my dad. As for my mum…" He turned to Theon who confirmed that he did know Catelyn Stark. She had visited him as well and had given him sweets and talked to him and his mother wasn't there. She'd formed a friendship with Theon's mother but they seldom acknowledged each other.

"Mum's nice. She's the kind of mother who makes sure you've brushed your teeth before you go to bed and gives you time outs. She still treats me like I'm Rickon's age. As for Dad, he's caring, too, but he's stricter around us. Good chap, though, always willing to help others. Very honorable."

"Honor." Something about Theon's tone made Loras and Aegon laugh real hard.

"Yeah. Honor." Robb took one last bite then pushed the plate back to Theon.

"Eat," he said, "it's good for you."

/

"Eat, Theon."

Theon dutifully ate the rest of his food. His mother smiled at him lovingly. She brought her thumb to the corner of his lips, swiping away the mashed potato on it. "You have the cutest little mole there, sweetie," she said. He reached up to tuck her hair behind her ear. His fingers brushed against the tiny mole below her right eye, the only thing he'd gotten from her. He was his father's son through and through.

She lifted him up and carried him in her arms. Theon breathed in the scent of her shampoo and perfume. It did little to hide the scent of the sea. The ocean clung to all of them, a reminder that Pyke was home no matter where they went.

"Alannys. Alannys!" Theon's father appeared. He grimaced at the sight of him. "Don't treat him like a baby anymore," he said, "He's five-years-old."

"Balon, be more sensitive." But she put him down nonetheless. She placed a reassuring hand on his head. "Don't frighten him, okay?"

There was no reply. His father's broad and callused hand wrapped around his small lone as he led him out of their 1920's kitchen and into the living room. "Your tie's askew," he told him and Theon hastily did his best to right it. Father always had to be obeyed. That was one of the many rules his siblings had implemented on him.

The living room was full of men in dark suits. They were laughing, holding wineglasses in one hand and women in the other. Theon kept his eyes downcast. In his peripheral vision, he saw Asha wearing a black dress with white gloves. He tried to go to her but his father's grip was iron.

"Your youngest?" The speaker was a Japanese man with a big cigar. Theon pressed his lips together as he was lifted up and placed in the arms of the Japanese. "He looks quite like you."

The woman with the Japanese had golden hair and a heavily made up face. Theon said nothing when she swooped down to kiss his cheek, said nothing when another ruffled his hair. Don't embarrass Father was another rule.

"You have more sons than you know what to do with, Balon. Let me have this one."

It was a joke but it didn't feel like one. Relief washed over him when his Uncle Aeron finally came over and too him. His uncle usually didn't visit, preferring to stay in their mother's hometown than to participate in the Greyjoy business. He was a pacifist, a holy man which made him the butt of his brothers' jokes. But it was a special occasion today and all of them had to present.

"Theon, darling, give your sister a kiss." The speaker was not Asha but Theon obeyed.

"Vivienne, you look lovely," Uncle Rodrik exclaimed as he came nearer to them. The woman laughed. Theon thought that, yes, she really was lovely. She didn't have a beautiful face, not like Theon's mothers, but when she laughed, her eyes shone and she became lovely. Theon did not like her at all.

"Are you excited to become my darling brother-in-law, sweetie?" Vivienne took his hands in hers and swung them to-and-fro. "Hmm?"

"Rodrik's not here yet," Theon answered. He scanned the room. He found his teenage brother Maron eating the hors d' oeuvres, but there was no sign of Rodrik. "You can't get married if he's not here."

"No." There was a trace of worry in her voice and her eyes moved to his uncle's wristwatch. She covered it with another smile. "Here, Theon," she said, taking his hand and placing it over her rotund belly. "Can you feel him kick? We're going to name him Balon."

"That's Father's name." He grimaced. Then his hand tightened until he was pinching her flesh. Vivienne cried out in pain and pushed him away.

"Theon!" Uncle Aeron grabbed him, slapping his hand hard. "Don't be mean."

Theon bit his lip. His hand stung a little but he wasn't allowed to cry here. Not when his father was around. "I don't like her," he admitted, narrowing his eyes at Vivienne who was complaining to his mother. She looked at Theon and quickly he felt guilty for the disappointment in his mother's eyes.

"Why?"

"She's going to marry Rodrik and they're going to have a baby. It's going to be mean like him."

His uncle shook his head. "Rodrik's your brother, Theon."

"Doesn't mean he doesn't deserve to be punished."

"Theon."

"You don't like your brothers either."

This time his uncle was speechless. Then he managed a strained smile, took Theon by the hand, and said, "Let's get some punch. Would you like that?"

He went to the buffet table, Theon following at his heels. "Cherry, I think." His uncle frowned at the bright red liquid. "Something's off."

Theon was only five but he knew that there was something strange about the drink. It was red and dark and seemed to be sticky. His uncle sniffed it then froze, his face growing white in a matter of seconds. He looked down at the punch bowl, his face a mask of horror. Theon stood on his toes, desperately trying to see what was so interesting. The scent of blood hit him hard, followed by the screams of the guests and Vivienne's wail, loud and piercing.

/

"It didn't live."

"What?"

"The baby. Vivienne had a miscarriage after fainting. So it didn't live." Theon wrinkled his nose as he tried to remember what had happened next. Someone had born him to his room. It was only later that his uncle had explained that an enemy of the family had given Rodrik a grisly death for killing an important member. He wouldn't tell this to Robb as he'd omitted many things from the story. All he'd said was that his brother had been murdered by a gang hours before his wedding. There was no mention of his family's being a criminal organization or the exact details of Rodrik's death. He'd been decapitated, his body spread in different parts of the house. It was his hand that had been in the punch bowl, the one bearing the ring. Uncle Euron must have been the one to take care of the killer as no one had ever spoken about the incident again.

Robb shook his head. "That's horrible, Theon."

"Well, you introduced the game in the first place."

The game was not really a game. Robb had proposed it after enduring ten minutes of boredom while Theon worked. It was merely guessing a fact about the other guy. If the guess was correct, the person would have to tell a story about his life. So far, Theon had spoken of a lot of deaths, some his relatives, others friends of the family.

"I can barely remember it, Robb," Theon said as another passerby gave him a twenty. He'd already gathered a small crowd, most of whom were women who were all too excited to see Theon playing the guitar. Work was sitting on a park bench and playing the guitar he'd borrowed from Mance while his was being repaired. It wasn't a high-paying job but Theon didn't really care about the money. All he cared about was the fact that he could actually earn something.

Robb sighed. "I don't think I want to play anymore. You say really depressing things."

"You're too much of an optimist, Robb." He stopped playing and paused to glare at man who'd been making a lewd gesture at him. Theon flipped him off. "Let's go," he said, "The pervs are coming."

"Huh?" Robb's confusion faded when he saw the man. He shuddered. "Ew, does that always happen?"

"Sometimes." They weren't always creepy old men, though. Sometimes they were fat, middle-aged women, other times they were highly persistent high school girls who thought it hilarious to pinch his bum. Even Robb had been a victim when they settled for a place, and he'd acted to flustered Theon couldn't stop laughing for two minutes. The people here, Theon decided, we're pretty horny folks.

"You have a lot of admirers," Robb said as he observed the disappointed people who were watching Theon pack up. Theon looked over his shoulder at them.

"They just want to fuck me." Robb laughed at that and Theon followed suit, though it wasn't really a joke.

"Let's go to that shop Aegon works in."

"Sure, I—" Theon froze. Robb followed his gaze which was directed at the big mastiff in front of them. It's owner was busy talking to someone on the phone. He was dismayed to see that the dog was unleashed and that the woman was moving away as she spoke.

Theon began to panic as the dog ambled over to them, pressing its wet nose against Theon's leg as he began to sniff him up and down. Robb, on the other hand, seemed to find the dog endearing. He scratched it behind its ears. "Cool dog," he said as he kneeled. The dog began to lick his face. "Heh, times like this that I miss Grey Wind. I left him at home on account of Ghost already being in the apartment."

Theon said nothing.

"Come on, Theon, she won't bite."

"I don't like dogs all that much." He hated them. "We should go."

Robb smiled at him. "She won't hurt you. Look, just place your hand on her head."

Theon stared at him, unresponsive. "Here," Robb said, taking his hand and placing it on the dog's head. Theon tried to pull away but Robb held him down. His fingers trembled and Robb looked at him, concerned. "Wow, you're scared of them, aren't you?"

"Ngh…" The dog's tongue flicked his fingers. Theon pulled away.

"Barb!" The woman called, moving toward her dog. Her phone was still in her hand. "I'm sorry was she bothering you kids?" Her eyes fell on Theon's hand which was still in Robb's. He wrenched it away, feeling himself go red.

"No. We're good." Robb was blushing as well, his eyes lingering on Theon's face uncomfortably.

"Stop that," he hissed when the woman had gone away. "Stop staring at me."

Robb scratched his head. "Er, sorry."

They'd walked a few feet away when Robb suddenly asked him if it hurt. Theon stared at him. "Your hand?" he said, looking a little awkward. "It's burned."

Theon glared at him. "We're not playing that game anymore."

"I just…you know what, forget it," Robb sighed, sounding annoyed and defeated. "You're so hard to figure out."

"There's nothing to figure out about me."

"Yeah, right."

"Well, there isn't!" He was getting angry again. Theon didn't know why he was so volatile around Robb. One moment he was happy and contented, the next he was acting like a raving lunatic once more. He didn't act this way with anyone else. Robb didn't seem to mind, either, which had Theon wondering if Robb thought he was just bipolar. Theon knew it wasn't because of Robb's persistence to find out more about him. Theon had had many people asking him why his hand was gloved and why he was so sickly. He managed to stop their questioning by acting rude and annoying. Theon had tried it with Robb but the boy was stubborn.

Robb seemed to find his distress funny as there was an amused look on his face. Theon desperately wanted to hit him.

"Hey," he said, hurrying to keep up with Theon. "I'm going to go to my folks' place for the weekend. Do you want to come?"

Theon smirked. "You asking me on a date, Stark?"

"What?" Robb was red again. "Shut up! No, I mean you and the others."

Theon grinned. "Your dad going to be there?"

"Yeah…why?"

"I'm going to tell him you've become a whore and you're selling your body for five dollars because your stupid cousin kicked you out of the apartment and that—"

Theon screamed as Robb tackled him on the ground. He got up, flipped Robb off, then ran inside the bookstore, Robb following at his heels.

/

Tyrion Lannister looked up from the chessboard when he saw the two boys wrestling with each other. "Your friends?" he asked the blue-haired Targaryen who was busy restocking the shelves. Aegon looked down and nodded.

The red-haired boy was now wacking the brunette with a dirty copy of The Bell Jar. Tyrion sipped his tea and watched the brunette counter-attack. Aegon rolled his eyes as he climbed down the ladder, one arm laden with books.

"Aren't you friends with that Tyrell boy?" Tyrion asked as his employee slid in the chair opposite him. The boy dutifully began to arrange the pieces. "Renly Baratheon's boyfriend, right?"

"Yeah."

Tryion looked at the two again. "Are all your close friends gay?"

Aegon looked up, shrugged, then said yes.


	6. Fall Part One

**Note: Chapter is divided in two parts**

"He's alright isn't he? Tell me!"

The paramedic grabbed the boy by the shoulders and pushed him away slightly before his fists could connect with his cheekbone. They'd already managed to gather a small crowd, and him causing a scene would only draw more onlookers. He released him hesitantly, hands raised in front of his face lest he attack again. "Sorry, son," he said. "Relatives only."

For a moment, he wished he could actually do something for him. The boy looked so panicked and lost, quite like a little child who'd lost his mother. Or perhaps more adequate was a boy about to lose his dear friend. But there really was nothing to worry about.

He had told him already, had told both of them that their friend would be alright. The blood was frightening, true, but it wasn't a deep cut. He would need some stitches of course, and he probably had a minor concussion. The paramedic wasn't even sure why the boy was being moved to the back of the ambulance. This was really no big emergency. Cold tap water and a few hours rest could easily solve their problem, but from the way these kids were acting it was like their friend had taken a bullet to the heart.

He was already lying in the stretcher so there was no going back. Besides, it wasn't a busy night and they could do with some distraction. The boy was unconscious anyway and wouldn't need to be assured that he was safe.

"We'll follow," the boy replied, then turning to his shyer friend. No, was what the paramedic initially thought the moment they stepped in his face. He wasn't an idiot nor was he square enough not to recognize the sweet smell of weed that mingled with these kids' breaths. That was probably how the accident had happened in the first place. Probably it was all just some stupid college party gone awry.

"You take care of him!" the red-head blurted before the doors closed and the ambulance pulled off the driveway. The paramedic turned to his friend John who was tending to the bleeding adolescent.

"College kids," he snorted, shaking his head. He hoped his own children wouldn't grow as wild as this bunch. He looked at the patient, his eyes quickly landing on the silver lighter that was still in his hand. He reached over to pry his fingers off it and placed the thing in his palm, weighing it.

The paramedic wasn't a stranger to thievery. He had slipped numerous things inside his pockets, things he was sure the patients wouldn't seek immediately. John was quite supportive of this looting so it surprised him when his friend made a strangled squeak in the back of his throat.

"I wouldn't touch that if I were you," he said, his eyes darting to the still unconscious patient.

"Why? It's pretty good silver." The paramedic squeezed the lighter slightly. It felt good in his callused hand and would no doubt pay for the month's rent. "Kid won't miss it."

The kid stirred slightly, alarming John once more. His friend snatched the lighter out of his hands and shoved it inside one of the boy's pockets.

"Idiot," he hissed at John. "You want to get fired? This is the Director's nephew you're messing with."

/

Rodrik loved his sister's children like they were his own. True, he liked Asha's company a little more than he did Theon, but that was because of Theon's awkward nature when with him. The boy liked him well enough, but Rodrik knew he didn't really love him, didn't really look at him as a father figure. Rodrik could give him all he needed: money, food, a good home. What he could not grant him, however, was freedom.

Theon understood that he would do anything for him, for both of them. So the panicked call that the Stark boy made did not come to him a surprise. Since he'd packed his things to go live with his friends in London, Rodrik was always expecting the phone to ring and a hospital to call him and say Theon had acted like an idiot again.

Theon always got in trouble. As soon as he was out of the hospital and in Rodrik's care, Theon had gone from his sweet and naïve nephew to a child-sized menace. Rodrik knew it was just a call for attention, but it became a nuisance sometimes. A broken arm from having jumped off the bus during a school fieldtrip, detention for locking a classmate in a broom closet, a high fever from taking on a dare and skinny dipping in a lake in the middle of September, angry calls from mothers who claimed Theon had befouled their daughters. The list could go on forever. And now this, right when he had just ended a call with Alannys. His sister worried constantly for the safety of her baby boy. What would he tell her when she called next?

They'd brought him to his hospital, thankfully. Theon had practically grown up here as well, driving the doctor's insane by playing with the wheelchairs and charming nurses with his sweet mummery. He'd become quite the little lord here, and Rodrik let him. Even before, Rodrik realized, he had let Theon do whatever he wanted.

"Usual room," Bea, the night-shift receptionist said when he burst in. "He's awake now, I think."

She smiled at him, then, and Rodrik saw a glimmer of hope in her brown eyes. Brown like his own, but warmer. The girl was young and pretty in her coltish ways, but Rodrik would never grant her his love. He had none to spare. It was all reserved for his family, for the children who weren't even his own to claim.

A brother and sister were arguing in the elevator as he rode up. Six and ten, he guessed. The little boy was clutching a very ragged teddy bear to his chest and crying. The sister was threatening him. It sounded to Rodrik that she was persuading him to throw the toy away as it was already far too threadbare. They were not unlike his niece and nephew. Always fighting, but beneath it they only wanted to protect each other from themselves.

Asha. What would he tell her? Rodrik knew that she would burst in the room and yell at her brother for ten minutes straight as soon as heard the news. Theon would never back down from her. They would make a lot of noise and disturb other patients.

It was a good thing that Asha was away with her friends and wouldn't be back until tomorrow. No one really needed to witness a Greyjoy sibling rivalry. It got messy and involved far too much broken glass from Rodrik's enjoyment.

The room Theon was in was the one he always used whenever he was grievously sick. He even left things here, like a box of Mars Bars and action figures. Later, it had been adult magazines which were confiscated by the orderlies for their own use.

His nephew was lying bed with a thick gauze swathed on his forehead. At his bedside were the Targaryen boy and whome Rodrik assumed was the Stark. The latter's presence irked Rodrik slightly. The boy was the son of a former (or present) criminal syndicate. This friendship was one Balon would never allow. Rodrik didn't agree with it, either. He had allowed Theon to live under the roof of a Stark but he didn't tell him he could be friends with them, either.

The boy bit his lip then muttered an excuse. "Follow him," he ordered Aegon who was quick to obey. Rodrik would need to talk to Theon alone.

His color was good, Rodrik noted, and he didn't seem any thinner than the last time he saw him. His eyes were red, however. Theon didn't cry, wouldn't. Not in front of them, anyway. So the only logical explanation was weed.

Rodrik backhanded him.

It was a weak hit but it caught Theon off-guard. His nephew's mouth fell open. Slowly, the expression on his face moved from shock to anger. "Why did you do that?" the boy snarled. He searched for the nearest thing to throw but could only make do with the pillow behind him. He settled for that and Rodrik felt the soft material collide with his cheek.

"You had me worried sick." He took the pillow away from him and placed it under his arm. Theon frowned at him. Rodrik sighed. "And you've been doing drugs, too."

"Pot isn't a drug," he argued. "It helps with my asthma. Your book said so."

_The Sweet Joy of Cannabis. _Euron had given him the book as a joke. Rodrik himself had never even opened it, but judging from the cracked spine and dog-eared pages, his nephew must have absorbed more than a little bit of information from it. One of his punishments for the two had been to keep them in his office for three hours. Theon always found a way to entertain himself.

He really had to put that somewhere else.

"It doesn't hurt then?" he asked, pushing the boy's hair back from his forehead.

"A bit. It's starting to wear off."

Theon pushed his hand away. The sleeve of his shirt slid down, revealing several scratches, some only a few days old. Rodrik stared at them. "You've been having nightmares," he said simply. Theon's answer was a shrug, combined with that expression on his face that warned Rodrik not to go there.

"Put some medicine on that, then." He rubbed a thumb over the ne of them lightly. :\"You won't want them to scar."

Theon said nothing.

"Now how'd this happen?"

/

The new house was much safer than the one they'd lived in when they were still in Scotland. The old house had been an almost-mansion with hanging eaves and gothic designs carved into each window pane. It had been old even before their father was born, and even then it hadn't been in a good condition. The stairs shook, the doors creaked, and you were lucky not to slip and crack your head on the well-worn marble floor of the porch. The fire in their neighborhood had done its job in making their house inhabitable. Though the exterior still stood as it was made of stone, their mother had finally drawn the line, too concerned for the safety of her children.

They would have moved to another house in the same town had Robert Baratheon, Robb's godfather and namesake hadn't offered their father a job in the district. His siblings had complained, had even thrown tantrums and showed black moods. Even his mother had tried to make him change his mind, but Robb knew his father quite well. He could never say 'no' to Uncle Robert.

The first thing Robb had been grateful of was the fact they didn't live too close to the Baratheons. While Uncle Robert was a nice man, always ready to laugh and make bawdy jokes, his wife and children were another thing. Robb had met them before so he already knew that Cersei Lannister (she wouldn't change her last name) was a shrewd, highly ambitious woman; Myrcella was naïve and had a disturbing crush on Robb; Tommen was a pathetic kid with a constantly runny nose; and Joffrey was a good-for-nothing shithead whom all of the Stark kids—except Sansa, bless her soul—loathed.

That was the good thing. Robb hated every other thing about the new house. It felt too small. It seemed that he could never be alone in one room except his own. And Rickon was always there to violate his privacy, forever begging Robb to play video games with him. It was why Robb had quickly gone over to Jon's in the first place. It wasn't that he didn't love his siblings. But sometimes the noise got too much and the house wasn't big enough to spread it evenly.

His friends seemed to be enjoying his room, however. Aegon and Theon had come along with him, Loras deciding to stay as he wanted to spend time in London with his sister and boyfriend. Aegon was on the floor, flipping through Robb's collection of vinyl records while Theon was standing in the middle of Robb's bed, bouncing on the balls of his feet. He was high, Robb was sure of that. His eyes were red and he giggled every now and then. It didn't come as a surprise to Robb when a plastic of marijuana slipped from the waistband of his underwear and dropped into Robb's lap.

"Should he be smoking this?" Robb asked, turning to Aegon who had the same red eyes as Theon. Other than that he showed no signs of floating in hippie paradise.

"You should light up, too," was Aegon's only response before fitting a record in the turntable. Aerosmith invaded the air. Theon's bouncing turned into jumping as he screamed out the lyrics. Every landing he made threatened to throw Robb off the edge. In the end Robb slid to the floor, the pot still in his hand. Aegon sniggered when he saw Robb handling the bundle like fine china.

"Wuss," Aegon teased before tackling Theon to the ground. Robb glared at both of them.

He'd smoked pot before. Tons of it, actually. You couldn't not do it when you were in an all boy's school, even if you were the prefect and head boy. Robb had done many regrettable things when he was still in high school. He'd hurt people's feelings, had disobeyed his parents more than once. And damn, junior high was the time he found it he wasn't as straight as people thought. Even today, Robb could still remember that sloppy kiss shared with Brian Landry. That, Robb regretted most of all.

"My parents will be home soon," he said as he handed the bundle to Aegon. "They might come in here all of a sudden." Robb's parents were with the Baratheons while Sansa and Arya were with their respective friends. Only Bran and Rickon were at home and Robb was assigned to watch over them. Only, Robb had already been assigned to watch over two others.

"Your brother's on guard duty, isn't he?" Theon replied. Robb frowned at that. Promising Rickon anything was risky. Robb knew he wouldn't be able to get out of this one. Bran and the others, he could still trick, but Rickon was a different story. The boy would cling to his leg and never let go.

He rolled around until his body knocked against Robb's. "You worry too much," he said, blowing smoke all over Robb's face. Robb stared at him until Theon was once more hysterical. He threw a limp arm over Robb's stomach. "I need air," he muttered after five minutes in that position. Before Robb could stop him, he moved to the sliding door which led to the balcony.

"I'm sleeping," Aegon said. He crawled backward until his body was sprawled on the thick rug. "Shut up and let me take a nap."

He closed his eyes and began to snore, his lit cigarette still between his fingers. Robb decided to take a risk. He plucked it from Aegon's fingers and walked toward Theon. He was sitting on the parapet, his cigarette between his lips and the wind blowing his hair. Robb felt an uncomfortable twitch in his chest. He dismissed it as the weed then took a seat next to Theon.

"Hey," Theon said all of a sudden.

"Hey."

"Are you a virgin?"

Robb coughed loudly. He whipped his head to look at Theon. "What? Why are you asking that?"

"Oh…well, Mar-mar made me watch The Breakfast Club with her…and I remembered that line." He took a long drag, his eyes fluttering close. "So?" he said, grinning, "are you?"

"No."

"Liar." Theon snorted, his laugh very stoner-like.

"I'm not."

"Okay. But I bet you've never been with as many girls as me!"

No one can beat that record, Robb thought. Well, except his Uncle Brandon, maybe who would probably fuck flamingos as well. "No, probably not," he replied, smiling a little when Theon gave a mock whoop of triumph.

"Why are we having this conversation in the first place?"

"We're high. Don't ask questions."

/

Theon's uncle had gone away, leaving only him and Robb in the same room. Aegon had offered to buy sodas from the vending machine down the hall so it as pretty quiet. The silence irritated Theon to no end. He had smacked Robb with a rolled up magazine, had even begged him to talk. But the other boy could only stare at him with that strange expression on his face.

"I give up," he muttered, folding his arms over his chest angrily. "Don't talk to me then."

Robb scratched the back of his head and looked away. Flustered, Theon thought. That was what he looked like.

"My uncle's been asking how the accident happened," Theon said for the fourth time that day. "I can't remember much of it." He looked at Robb. "What did happen?"

A tomato, Theon decided amusedly, would be put to shame when put next to Robb's very red face.

/

"You ever kissed a guy before?"

The words brought back Brian Landry and the taste of lasagna. Robb shuddered inwardly and shook his head. That didn't count. Robb was doing his best to omit it from his memory.

"You?"

There was a pause. Then, "Robb, I've fucked guys already."

Another cough racked his body. Theon pounded his back with his gloved fist. "It's different," he continued as Robb threatened to cough up a lung, "but kissing's the same as doing it with a bird. You know, just tongue and shit."

"Ah." He turned to face Theon, ready to make another joke when he suddenly became all too aware of how close his face was. He could smell the odd combination of pasta and coffee in his breath, could see every minute detail of his face. He knew Theon was good-looking, but Robb hadn't understood why so many people were attracted to him until now. Those eyes of his.

And those lips.

Robb swallowed hard. Theon was staring at him, his head tilted slightly to one side as he observed Robb with bleary eyes.

"You wanna try?" Theon asked, laughing once more. He was still tripping but Robb felt more sober than he had ever been in his whole life.

Robb nodded.

He didn't know what he was doing, not really. In that moment he had no control of his body, and he found himself leaning forward, eyes sliding close as he moved. He heard Theon's slight chuckle when Robb's hand rested on his jean-clad knee. This close he could smell the foreign cigarettes on his clothes, almost like the thing permeated from his very skin. He smelled of wet leather and rain and something that seemed only Theon's personal scent.

Theon's mouth was surprisingly soft and warm against Robb's own; His mind registered every little detail of it, from the light scratch of faint stubble to the sweet taste of pot when Robb's tongue touched his. Theon was a good kisser. Robb knew that even before this, had heard him boast of how many girls he'd had begging for it.

Too good maybe. Robb forgot that this was Theon his mouth was attached to. This was Theon for christssake, his slutty friend and who's friendship was in the same level as what he had with Jon. God, he's undoubtedly had more than someone's tongue in that mouth. But it didn't matter. Not really. Not now anyway.

Robb hadn't kissed anyone for so long, but he'd never really been bad at it. His clumsiness faded until it seemed that it was no longer practicing but just the two of them making out in the balcony. That enough made Robb pull away. He stared at Theon's flushed face in horror.

"Not bad for a rookie," Theon said, grinning. Robb stared at him then jumped when he heard the door slide open.

"Dad's here, Robb, and he's asking for you guys and…" Rickon trailed off and looked at the two of them. Robb's hand was still on Theon's cheek, the others' still grasping the front of his shirt. Even someone as young as Rickon could tell what they'd just been doing.

Robb later blamed the pot. He didn't mention the panic he'd felt when Rickon came upon them, nor the thoughts of running away and hiding. The pot seemed the best explanation for what he did next.

In a flash he was on his feet. He had meant to say something, to make a lame excuse about their disheveled appearance. But he had done so too quickly and clumsily. He hadn't realized that he should have moved so as not to knock Theon backwards with his shoulder.

It didn't matter anyway. Theon had already gone overboard.


End file.
